Provocative Sailor
by Toxi
Summary: Aftering a meeting with his old friend Berwald, Norway comes face to face with the young nation, Sealand. Sealand immediately takes an interesting curiosity in the other nation, and Norway questions his intentions. Does he love Sealand? NorSea R&R please!
1. Just Curious

Hi, I'm trying to write a NorSea (NorwayxSealand) fic, and I just wanted to see if I could. I kind of invented this pairing (because I love sailors suits so much) and discover that it could sort of work. This is just a babbling attempt, so please tell me if you like it and want me to continue! ^ ^

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"Oh, hello, Tino…" I said quietly as my friend's 'wife' opened the door. Tino wore a little smile like he usually did and looked quite happy. I imagined that he loved living with Sweden. His eyes widened a bit when he saw me, "Oh, Norway!" He exclaimed lightly, stepping aside for me to enter into their home. I nodded my thanks and walked in, trying to be wary of my actions. Tino closed the door behind me and I stepped aside for him to continue to walk down the hall.

"It's okay, Norway," He smile reassuringly, "Sweden's in the kitchen."

"Ah, thank you," I muttered and followed the petite man down their hallways and made a left turn into their kitchen. I noticed they had a staircase that led to a second floor on the right side of the hall. They had quite a big house, I hadn't realized earlier. I hadn't visited them in quite some time, I remembered. My steel-colored eyes scrolled left and I saw my friend Berwald sitting at the table, reading something. He looked up and saw me, setting the book down. As I try to bypass Tino, who was busying himself with cooking something, I saw a strange white fluffy object sitting on the floor quite motionlessly. Only when I approached closer did it move. It responded by yipping shrilly at me, and I recoiled lightly.

"Du'n w'rry," Berwald said to me in his deep, impossible voice. He accent was a little odd, but at the nostalgic sound of his voice, I remember how to understand him. Much like remembering the lyrics to a song you knew years ago. "D'ass jus' H'na-T'mago. Ah'r pet."

"Oh," I let out lightly, wedging myself into a seat to notice that the white fluff ball was indeed a miniature canine—probably of some toy variety, though I was not familiar with the breed in the slightest. After it had yipped at me a few times, it quieted down and curled up next to Berwald's feet under the table. I wondered if it was suspecting me of being an enemy.

Tino turned around to look at me with an optimistic smile, "Will you be staying for dinner, Norway?"

"I, uh…" I paused, "I don't know yet." I admitted, because I truthfully had no idea if our visit was going to last that long. Berwald had invited me over on the occasion that despite being neighbors, we hadn't seen each other in quite some time. So much had accumulated over such a short period of time and we were so busy with our own lives that we had failed to pay attention to each other. I had yet to meet him, but Tino had told me that they had adopted a micronation by the name of Sealand, and that they wanted me to meet him. Of course, that call had been made months ago, and I had failed to accept the invitation earlier, but we had made other plans and they finally aligned up on this day.

I heard a stream of loud stomps as a small blond boy in a sky blue sailor suit bounded from the stairs and nearly ran out the door. "PapaI'mgoingtoLatvia'sokay?" He said in a rushed slur.

"Peter!" Tino called, and the boy turned around, looking impatient but obedient. "Not so fast! Our friend Norway is here. You can go to Latvia's later, alright?"

Peter blinked and sighed a little, nodded and went in another room, where I heard him pick up something and speak softly into it. I assumed it was the phone, but I couldn't hear much else. "He's familiar with the Baltic nation, Latvia?" I asked Berwald, turning around to refocus my attention on him. He nodded, "T'no al'wys encr'ged him ta make fre'ns with ot'ar na'shuns. 'Nd tha boy La'via is close ta his age." He adjusted his rectangular-framed glasses and eased back slightly in his seat. "He's tw'ilv." He said, looking over at me.

"Oh," I let out, "What a young nation." And as soon as I had finished my sentence, the boy returned in the kitchen with a smirk on his face, sitting at the table I was, along with Berwald.

"So, you're Norway, huh?" He asked, kicking his feet under the table as he looked me, staring at my hat. Now that I noticed it, we dressed quite similarly, of course there were differences, but overall, quite similar. He was probably making this observation as well.

I nodded, "Yes, I'm Norway, and Tino and Berwald say you're Sealand?" I asked, just to see if he wanted to be called a certain name like some countries did. It was difficult to make sure you didn't anger anyone.

"Yeah, " He said with a nod, "I'm Sealand. My real name's Peter Kirkland 'cause England is my jerk-of-an-older-brother but I don't care about him."

I glanced at Berwald as if to say, 'Oh, he's related to Arthur?' I wouldn't have thought that, but now that I analyzed his face I saw his huge eyebrows—any trademark of a British colony. How I had not noticed that earlier was completely oblivious of me and made me feel rather foolish. He wore a huge smile and had bright sky blue eyes, obviously wearing his childishness like a badge. Sealand gave me an odd look and tilted his head to one side, "What's that?" He pointed at the stray lock of hair that just seemed to float near the back of my neck. "You've got one of those hairs like Italy…only…it floats!" He seemed to be thoroughly amused by this, though in a good way, and I could tell from his tone that he wasn't making fun of me.

"Peter…!" Tino called to him, in attempts to lay off the 'idiot hair' comments. Peter sunk back in his seat, giving an apologetic glance to Berwald.

"It's fine," I said to both of the boy's adoptive parents. "It doesn't bother me…It's just a piece of hair, Sealand." I said to the boy, looking nonchalant.

"I think it's cool." He said, grinning.

This boy was rather cute, I thought. Though I didn't voice my opinion in any sort of way. I kept a calm expression and didn't say much for the rest of the visit. It turned out that I did stay for dinner, and Tino prepared a Finnish meal for the four of us. Tino and Sealand were the heart of the conversation while my friend Berwald and I said little and paid attention. Sealand didn't seem at all uncomfortable that there was a guest disrupting the normal flow of things. I didn't know if I should feel relieved or not. Was he ignoring me or was he very confident? I assumed it was the latter, because he would glance at me on occasion. After everyone had eaten dinner, there was a group effort to help clean up the kitchen.

I nodded and thanked Berwald and his 'wife' for inviting me over and decided that it would be a good time to leave. I didn't want to impose on them anymore than I already had. As I headed for the door, I saw Sealand get on his tiptoes to ask Berwald something. He whispered something in his father's ear, and then let out a loud, "Pleeeeeeeeeeease?" I looked slightly confused, and Tino and Berwald exchanged glances for a moment.

"Ah, N'rway, See'lind was ask'in if he'cud see ya house…Wou'd tha' be a'right?"

I blinked for a moment. The boy wanted to see my house? Did I seem that interesting to him? I felt myself nod slowly, "Yes, that would be fine if he wanted."

"Yaay!" Peter cried and clapped his hands a few times.

"Peter…" Tino called as Sealand started to follow me. Sealand turned around for a brief moment to see what his mother-role model had to say, "Don't stay over too late, and be polite to our friend."

"I will!" He cried merrily as he followed me out the door. It was slightly snowy outside; I forgot it was already so late in the year. "Wow! Snow!" Peter cried avidly, staring up into the sky to watch all of the little white flakes float down soundlessly.

"Are you not used to snow?" I asked him as I took the path to my own home.

"No, I've only seen snow a few times before!" He remarked gleefully, racing up with me to keep at the same pace. "Back where I used to live, there was just this huge ocean and nothing else. I was like a permanent boat in the ocean." He laughed, "So it never really snowed."

Well, it hadn't occurred to me before, but with a country named 'Sealand', he'd probably have some sort of connection to the ocean. I had no idea where his previous house used to be, so I didn't know which ocean he was familiar with. "Do you like the ocean?" I asked him curiously.

"I love it!" He cried with a smiled, "The ocean is just so adventurous. I love boats too." He clapped his hands together and smiled, looking up at me, noting that it was now my turn to talk.

"I like the ocean, as well." I said softly.

Sealand smiled, "I wonder why I've never met you before, Norway. You're such an awesome nation."

"I think it's because we were all very busy, Sealand…" I said calmly.

"You can call me Peter, ya know." He said matter-of-factly, "It's okay."

I nodded, "Okay, then," I decided, "I will."

We approached my house, which was roomy, but not the size of my friend Berwald's house. There was a stone statue outside of my house, and Peter remarked at it. "It's a troll," I told him, and he looked confused. "They're stone in daylight, but they come alive at night." He looked interested, but still followed me into my house. Why did he want to visit me, anyway? Was he just that incredibly curious that he'd follow any of his parents' friends?

"Wow! You have a lot of neat stuff in here." Peter marveled at the small Norwegian trinkets and objects of small magical creatures I kept around. They lined mantles and sat in collections, Peter picked up a whittled wooden troll and held it with both hands, staring at it for a moment. He had rushed in before me, so I followed him to the assortment of other little wooden trolls I had carved in my spare time. "This is a…troll too, right?" He asked, looking at me for any sort of affirmation. I nodded, adding, "You can have that one if you want. I make them in my free time."

Peter smiled, "Really?" He chirped. This whittled troll had a long tail with a tuft of hair at its end and big ears with more wood-colored fur growing out of them. He had an elongated nose and claw-like feet, and I had carved it in a way so that it appeared that he was wearing overalls. Naturally, as it had been a creation in my spare time, I thought nothing of it, but felt a little embarrassed as Peter held it in his hands like it had been a Christmas present. "Thank you!!" He beamed, clamping one hand around it as he continued to follow me around my house.

'Why did you want to follow me?' I wanted to ask him, but I didn't. I just assumed it was natural curiosity for a similar nation he'd never met before. And though we were just acquaintances, Peter and I seemed to get along quite well. I sat down in one of the chairs in the main room of my house—quite near the door. We hadn't moved rooms, but I saw Peter poke his head into various hallways, just taking in the differences between my house and the house he was accustomed to. "Your house is very different from Papa's," He said to me in no certain tone. I'm rather bad at reading peoples intentions, and to make matters worse, I just met Peter. I wondered if he was insulting me in a way, though I doubted it. After all of the curious interest he had taken in me, I highly disbelieved he was bothering to make fun of me.

I sat in my favorite navy-colored chair and picked up the small block of wood I had started to carve a few days ago. It wasn't in any special shape as of now, but it was in a sort of distorted orb form. It didn't look like anything distinguishable, just a hunk of wood. Peter's sky blue eyes lit up when he saw the wood and pulled up one of the smaller chairs scattered in my living room to watch me. I pulled out a cutting knife from my pocket and glanced at him, one of the corners of my mouth turning upwards into a smile. "You like this?"

Peter nodded vigorously, "I've never seen someone carve anything out of wood like you do, I really like it." He told me with a smile.

Hm, this little nation seemed to have taken quite a liking to me. I appreciated his company and his excited optimism. It was a nice change from the quietness that usually resided in my house or the overpowering aura that Denmark carried with him. As Peter watched me with wide eyes, clutching the present I had given him in his right hand, I wedged the blade of the knife into one side of the piece of wood and pushed up, shaving some of the fibrous material off of its source. It fell to the floor, and I stopped paying attention to Peter's expressions as I continued to carve—it was my creative outlet and a way for me to think as well. What _were_ my intentions towards this small nation—an adoptive child of my friends'. As I thought this, I remembered myself of the fact that, yes, he is just a kid. I am one of the younger Nordic nations, but Peter was one of the youngest nations as of yet. I could feel his warm smile directed at me. Was his newly found interest in the country of Norway just _curiosity_? I hardly knew the boy, so I couldn't tell…

That's all that was on my mind. Had I fallen in love with a child?

______

I make Norway sound like a pedo. OTL Well, did it suck? Please tell me your opinions and tell me if you think I should continue this. Thank you for reading this, please read and review.


	2. Shiver

SO MUCH FOR UPDATING QUICKLY. /shot Oh sweet Jesus, you guys gotta forgive me. OTL It's been like over a year. I'll try to be a little more active on my FF account and try to get more stories up. _ lll So much has happened since I've updated for _any_ of my stories, geez. Thanks for reading and sticking with me, guys!

I woke up with a strange headache. I squinted my steel-colored eyes a few times at the light leaking through my window, and slowly eased myself out of my bed and rubbed an eye groggily. As I combed my hair a bit with my fingers, I remembered that Sealand had visited me. He hadn't really ventured out of my living room, but it still felt rather strange to me knowing that someone who had never been to my home before had visited. Most likely that was just me being a little paranoid.

Still a little sleepy and dazed, I pulled back the pale-colored curtains in my bedroom and glanced over at the clock on the wall. After staring at the black hands for a few moments, I realized that I had slept in a little more than I usually did. It was about ten in the morning. Gently letting out a sigh, I fixed my blankets and sheets so they'd look somewhat acceptable. Silence was broken when I heard a few shrill noises coming from another room. I blinked for a moment, trying to realize what the noise was. But then after a moment I realized it was the phone.

I left my bedroom and walked into the kitchen, where a phone was on the wall. I gingerly picked it up, wondering who'd be calling me. "Hello?" I voiced quietly into the phone, anticipating a reply. Instantly, I imagined it was Peter calling me, but I should have known better than to think it was him. I didn't even give him my phone number. But…his parents _were_ friends of mine…

"Heya, Norge!" A boisterous voice called loudly into my ear. Without a moment to think about it, I knew it was Denmark calling me. Why he was calling me, I had no clue. Denmark often decided to call me or visit me out of pure boredom, much to my dismay.

"Oh," I let out, "Hello, Denmark…"

"Hey, are you doing anything today?" He asked avidly, I could already see his excited grin on his face. I could just hear the smile through his voice.

"Uhm, I really don't kn—"

"Well, you should come with me 'cause America's havin' a party over at his house!"

"America?" I asked in somewhat revulsion.

"Whaaaat?" Denmark pouted, "Somethin' wrong with him!"

"Nn…no…" I paused, not knowing what really to say. I didn't want to go over to Alfred's house, and I didn't really like parties, either. Furthermore, I didn't want to go with Denmark.

"Well then," He started up again, "You should come! I'll pick you up, hnn?"

I stifled a sigh over the phone, rolling my eyes in my head. I began to pace around in my kitchen, thinking of some sort of plan to prevent Denmark from taking me to some dreaded party at Alfred's house that I really didn't want to go to. Whenever Denmark suggested something, it was almost impossible to refuse. The man was just so goddamn stubborn and refused to let me actually make decisions for myself.

"Listen, Denmark," I attempted to reason with him, "I don't really want to go, okay? I feel kind of sick, my head hurts a lot. I think I might have the flu…" True, my head was hurting, but I wasn't feeling very sick. Some food would probably cure my headache, but I didn't want to tell him that. Although I did it all the time, lying to Denmark could make me feel a little guilty afterwards.

I heard a short pause for a moment, "Hey…you okay?" Concern clung to his voice, which made the tugging feeling of guilt start up, even though I genuinely had a headache.

"Nnn," I let out a small grumble, "I just don't want to go, okay? I'd rather just stay home…" I intentionally made my voice sound weaker in order to get out of it.

"Oh, okay…" Denmark let out somewhat dismally, "Hope you feel better." I could detect that apologetic smile in his tone of voice.

"Mmm," I nodded, though he couldn't see it, "I'm going to go back to sleep, so goodbye."

"Bye," I could still hear the smile.

With my thumb, I gently pressed the 'end call' button and heaved another sigh through my teeth. Denmark was good at guilt tripping me into doing what he wanted, which usually worked. I knew I needed to be firmer with him, personally I didn't like to be around him all the time. He was loud, crass, and demanding. Every time he'd force me to go somewhere, something bad would happen. Maybe I'd get a shirt stained, or I'd be the butt of all of his jokes, or he'd personally take it upon himself to start to tease me, both verbally and physically. I just didn't like the way he treated me. I knew it was his "way of displaying affection" but…I really didn't like it.

I hung up the phone on the wall and walked down my hallway, glancing at the living room to see that one of the wooden trolls I had carved was missing. At first, I panicked a moment, wondering who had stolen it. But then I remembered that I had given it to Peter, who had taken it gleefully with a certain excitement I hadn't seen in anyone's eyes in a long time. I smiled when I remembered his expression, but continued down my hallway, dragging my naked feet against the hardwood floors of my house.

Heaving myself back into bed, seeing as I had nothing in particular to do, I let out a great sigh of comfort and sleepiness. My head gently resting on my pillow, being absorbed in a sea of comforters and blankets—it felt good to fall asleep.

"Norway?" Someone called my name.

Reflexively, I opened my eyes and mumbled something incoherent. "Nn…yes?" I muttered, opening both eyes and sitting up. My vision was blurry for a moment, but cleared, and I recognized who was standing in front of me. It was Denmark, wearing a red dress shirt that looked like it could use an iron, and black dress pants. Not wishing to see him at the moment, I grumbled and flopped back down on my bed.

"Leave me alone…!" I complained unenthusiastically. I most certainly did not want to go to any party. "I'm sick, remember?" I didn't even get angry about him breaking into my house. He did it so often I might as well make a key for him.

"But, Norwaaaay~!" Denmark whined, sitting down on my bed. I felt my mattress squeak a bit with the shifting of weight. I was thrown a little off balance, but caught myself. "Please?" He smiled at me, "Please? Berwald and Tino are coming too, if that makes you feel any better."

"How would that make me feel any better?" I snapped at him, not looking directly at him, but burying myself in my pillow. "It doesn't matter if you drag half of Europe to that party, I just don't want to go."

Denmark placed a hand on my head, and started to smooth my hair. I felt his fingers comb through the hair on the top of my head like he used to do. "C'mon, Norway…please?" He asked me gently.

I tensed up, not used to this kind of behavior again. "Denmark I went out with you _once_, and only because you begged me! But I broke up with you, so leave me alone!"

Denmark didn't seem to want to listen to me. Instead, he giggled a little under his breath and decided to lie on top of me, resting his head on my shoulder. "C'mon…" He smiled rather playfully, "Just this once, okay? I promise I won't make fun of you, and I promise I won't do anything weird, okay? I just want you to come to this party. That fine?"

_I'm letting this cycle continue…! _I yelled at myself internally, yet gave in to Denmark's demands. "Fine, just don't touch me, okay? …And get off of me! I can't move with you on me."

"Fine, fine," He smiled and laughed a bit, easing himself up off of me and took a few steps back to let me heave myself out of my bed. With my right hand, I quickly ran my fingers through my hair a few times in attempts to perfectly align my hair with my hair part. "You screwed up my hair," I grumbled.

"I'll go wait in the kitchen," Denmark added with his playful smirk, heading towards my bedroom door. His blue eyes still retained the constant excitement as they usually did, but seemed a little longing in the same sense. He glanced at me, and our eyes met for a moment, and he closed the door behind himself.

_Not again…Not again…_ I told myself internally, walking over to my closet to pick out something suitable to wear. Judging from what Denmark was wearing, it was semi-formal. My hands selected a navy dress shirt and black pants. I quickly slipped out of my pajamas and the dress shirt and pants. With the collar of the shirt gaping open, I realized that I had forgotten to find my tie.

My eyes scanned for the white tie I was looking for, but I couldn't manage to find it. _"You're kind of ridiculous, aren't you?"_ I remembered Denmark's voice with the chuckle still present in my memory.

I hadn't worn a tie in so long; I had almost forgotten how to tie one. Denmark had not, though, and took it upon himself to tie it for me. _"You can manage to tie that little tie on your sailor suit, but not one of these!"_

_ "They're completely different," _I defended myself, being stubborn with Denmark as I always was.

I paused a moment, telling myself not to lapse into the time I spent with Denmark. I glanced at the clock again; it was about six in the evening. The dark sky outside was enough to tell me that. Regardless, I finally found my tie in one of my dresser drawers, and tied it quickly. With a hand, I smoothed it out, and decided that I looked acceptable.

I saw Denmark look up at me out of the corner of his eye, and smiled. "We ready?"

"Mm," I shrugged, "I guess. How long does this party last? I don't want to spend a whole lot of time there…"

"Easy, Norway," Denmark grinned and gestured rather apologetically. "It lasts until nine, but you don't have to stay there the whole time…not a lot of people are…"

"Hm," I muttered, looking over at him as I started to put on my coat, as did he. Both at the doorway, we slipped on our shoes and continued conversation. "What's the point of this party, anyways? You never told me…"

Denmark shrugged, "There really wasn't any, for all that I know."

"Wha-?" I questioned in shock.

"I just heard Alfred just wanted a random party for no occasion, so calm down, geez…"

_Sounds like Alfred…_

Denmark and I arrived at Alfred's party of no real purpose greeted by the host of the party himself. He wore a ridiculous grin and let out a shrill laugh, "OHO! So you brought 'im, didja, Denmark?" Alfred beamed.

Denmark joined in on the festivity of idiotic grins. I surely did not want to be a part of this. "Of course!" Denmark replied, "I had to bring the whole Nordic gang along, didn't I?"

Alfred let us in, and I managed to slip pass while both idiots conversed avidly with each other. _'The whole Nordic gang'..? _I asked myself, realizing that it must have meant that not only Berwald and Tino were here, but my younger brother Iceland as well.

I ignored crowds of people as I advanced deeper into Alfred's gargantuan house. Bright lights were everywhere, including a chandelier I saw in the dining room. People were laughing and talking loudly amongst each other as I tried to pinpoint my younger brother. _It shouldn't be that hard to find him…_ I told myself, looking for a young man with white hair. I grumbled to myself in frustration that I couldn't find him, but someone called my name in the midst of the action and chaos.

My head reflexively span around to see that it was Tino, waving to me. I walked over towards him, realizing that he was sitting next to Berwald and my brother, Iceland. I pulled up a chair and said aloud, "Denmark drag you here as well?"

"Ehe," Tino started a little hesitantly, "More or less…"

"He means yes, Norway." Iceland interjected.

"Thought so," I sighed.

Berwald was leaning back in the massive red couch with his arm around Tino's shoulders, looking rather grim and serious as he usually did. The only Nordic who looked like he was really enjoying himself was Denmark. I imagined that Germany's older brother, Prussia was here. America, Denmark and Prussia would all have ridiculous 'adventures' as "Team Awesome"—or "Team Stupid" as I called them behind their backs.

I was just about to sit down next to my brother and just "enjoy the atmosphere" when something tugged at the back of my shirt. It was Sealand. "Hiya!" He said happily. "You're here too?"

Tino smiled, "Of course he's here, Denmark brought him."

"Denmark brought all of us here." Sealand let out a humph. "No one else really listens to me, though. I hate it!"

"I—I'm sorry…" I mumbled. I looked back to his adoptive parents for some reason, maybe to 'ask' what I should do.

Berwald said nothing, but glanced at his 'wife' and through some sort of mental connection conveyed a message to each other. Tino was the translator. "Why don't you go take Sealand outside or to another room or something? Denmark can't be too oppressive if only one of us is gone. And if he asks, I'll just tell him you're in the bathroom!"

I nodded, and looked to my brother to convey another telepathic message of 'that alright with you?' He looked back at me for a moment, then looked away into the distance, his head resting on his jaw. I shrugged and started to walk away with Sealand.

He seemed perfectly content leading the way. So I followed him. Despite being very short, he navigated out of the crowd pretty well. When the streams of people seemed to be thinning out, he turned around to look at me and asked, "Should we go outside or stay inside?"

I paused for a moment, obviously thinking about it. I still had my coat on, and he had a thin jacket. "Sure," I said softly, "Let's go outside, it's kind of stuffy in here anyway."

Peter happily opened the back door with a smile on his face and the two of us slipped out. The air outside was cold, but not as cold as it was yesterday. The snow had all melted, but we could still see out breaths. Peter shivered slightly in his jacket, but made no comment about it. I felt a little awkward as neither of us said anything at all. Peter seemed to know where he was going, though I had a feeling he didn't. I ignored the feeling and decided to trust him.

I saw him shiver again slightly, and pulled him closer to me. "Hey, if you're cold, I can let you wear my coat…"

"Here, I'll do this instead!" Peter said triumphantly, and unzipped my jacket, tucked himself inside, and zipped it up again. "Now we're both warm!" He said, nuzzling close to me.

I felt my cheeks burn again, but instead of being embarrassed I blamed the cold. Sealand's cheeks were reddish too; I bet he wasn't even paying attention to something like that. Now walking became a little difficult. We had to talk in time with each other or it'd feel far too unnatural for my liking.

Since I wasn't too keen on this idea, I found a bench, and suggested we both sit down. We awkwardly walked to the bench and unzipped it so he wouldn't be too uncomfortable pressed against me. He was sitting on my lap, even though I made it obvious that there was enough space for him to sit next to me with room to spare, but I didn't want to seem like I was forcing him to choose the option.

I knew I was quiet, but I was used to being about rather talkative people like Denmark. I thought Peter would've been pretty talkative as well, but he looked rather troubled. "What's bothering you?" I asked him in a quiet voice, and he turned sideways.

He looked at me for a second, and his eyes really were troubled. "I…I think I like you," He said very softly.

"W—what?" I asked him for clarification. Maybe I had heard him wrong.

"I like you," He said, averting his eyes away from me.

I didn't want to play dumb, but I just couldn't believe it. "In what way?" I asked in a quiet voice, obviously shocked to hear it. But how old was the boy again? 12? It could be just a silly little week-long, meaningless crush.

Sealand gave me a weird look, and inched his face loser to mine. His eyes were half closed and his mouth slightly agape, but he didn't do anything. He held himself in that ridiculous looking pose for about ten seconds, then snapped back and looked quite angry. "Do you not like me! I _was_ trying to kiss you!"

_Was?_ I asked myself, trying to hold back a laugh. _That looked more like a tired face than a kissy face. _

I already had an idea of what I wanted to do, but was considerably fighting myself inside if I should go through with it or not. I felt my hands start to shake a little, but I wasn't sure if it was from cold or from nervousness. "That's not how you kiss someone, Peter," I said calmly, despite feeling like my heart was going to explode as it was still inside my chest.

His eyes grew wide as I grew closer to him and gave him a quick peck on the lips. A quick shiver ran up my spine. Goddamn cold weather.

Lolwut. WELL. I'm all out of ideas. Ppl shower me with them, a'ight? Gomen for any OOC-ness. xD


	3. Guilty Hesitation

Okay wow, I officially suck at updating consistently, like ROYALLYYYYYYY. but I was without my laptop for about two months due to it being a minor shitstorm and school makes me cry on the inside. BUT I'M ALIVE AGAIN. And again after some school issues. And happy story'ing.

"S—so then you do like me back, huh?" Peter squealed enthusiastically after I had impulsively kissed him.

Even though I knew I was being rash and not really thinking things through, I said quite confidently, "Yes."

Really, what _was_ I saying? Hell, I could be regretting this soon enough. I had better plan out my next actions quickly if I wanted to save myself from any sort of destruction of my reputation. But he looked happy with a small, half-moon smile and his face still close to mine. Snow started to fall lightly around us and everything had this odd feeling of stillness and tranquility. The cold both bit at us, and made our noses and cheeks tinged red. The sky was pretty dark now, only really lit up by a few orangey lamps scattered about the yard.

"That makes me happy," The blond boy said in an embarrassed tone, fidgeting around next to me.

I still didn't really know quite what to say in response, but made an agreeing "hmm," sound. I didn't have a watch on me. It was winter, but simultaneously, I imagined it was getting pretty late. Berwald and Tino may get suspicious if Peter was outside too long. I know I'd be held responsible regardless of the situation, though…

"Don't you think it's time we should be heading back inside…?" I offered the thought in the best coaxing voice I had.

I saw him debating inside his mind. Tightly scrunched up face, puzzled look.

"You don't want to upset your parents…" I added for further emphasis.

"Alriiight," He let out in a defeated, unhappy tone.

Both of us stood up from the wooden bench and I zipped up my coat properly, and as soon as my hands rested at my sides Peter clamped onto one of them. I tensed up for just a moment, a little surprised as such a lightning fast reaction. Though looking down and a little behind me, I saw the boy interlace his fingers with mine and he let out a small whisper of a giggle. I really did wonder how long this was going to last.

But I didn't want to hurt him, so I played along. I gave his hand a tight squeeze in response as we started our walk back into Alfred's house for the remaining bits of the party. Our soon approach was greeted with boisterous noise and immense light pollution, and we both were still outside. A shadowy figure could be seen in front of the backdoor and as it opened I heard a, "Where've you been all this time? Tino and Berwald were ready to leave 30 minutes ago!"

The figure that emerged was a young man with white hair, obvious to all, my younger brother. He had almost closed the door behind him, and looked like he had more to stay to me in a chastising response but his eye froze when he saw our cold hands wrapped around each other. In a panic I suddenly broke the finger intertwinement and looked directly at my brother, "It was just a simple walk. We just weren't expecting it to be so cold…"

Iceland seemed to be a little thrown off, but nodded. "Come inside, both of you."

Upon entering the massive estate, Peter looked back at me rather helplessly as if saying 'what now?' with his eyes. I still had no response, so my expression remained as it almost always was—blank.

I was feeling the awkward silence walking home with my brother after the party. We didn't live together, but after all our houses were in the same general direction. We both looked down apprehensively at the ground with only a thin layer of snow, avoiding speech in general. I pretended to separate from Iceland, and he clearly noticed. I generally walked with him longer before parting ways.

"What…" He started cautiously, "What happened…? With you and Peter?" His bright eyes quickly veered off in the direction of my face and focused as if it were an extremely crucial moment.

Trying not to allow much of a pause I came up with a quite response. "Nothing happened," I replied nonchalantly. "His hands were cold…He wasn't wearing any mittens, if you noticed." _Nothing_ happened, I heard myself deny it. Though it was really only a peck, that kiss was probably Peter's first kiss. The sudden impact of this really only started to take its toll on my consciousness until now.

I took his 'first kiss', despite his obvious willingness. What I just dismissed as nothing to my brother was something Peter would probably remember for at least a few years. I was glad that my almost continual poker face hadn't faltered, or my brother would have been too suspicious and the secret would be out. He didn't seem like the type, but hopefully Peter wasn't going to tell everyone.

"Alright, alright…" Iceland yielded. "No need to give me full details. I was just a little curious."

Filled with relief, I bid my brother goodnight and returned home. I hadn't felt like this in quite a long time, I told myself as I flopped onto my bed. There was some sort of nervous tension that was building up in both my throat and my stomach, giving me this unpleasant and exciting feeling. Completely restless with my thoughts everywhere, I knew I couldn't sleep. I felt hideously guilty, even though I hadn't really done anything. So I lie there in my bed with limbs stretched out. Maybe there'd be some sense of things in the morning.

I found myself at Tino and Berwald's house after Tino had called me this morning. In his rather soft-spoken voice, he had asked me to come over to play with Peter again. I had left a pause after Tino's request.

"Something wrong, Norway…?" He inquired lightly.

"N—nothing's wrong," I replied rather quickly. Maybe too quickly. This sounded like the perfect opportunity for an excuse. "Just getting over a slight cold."

"Well, I hope it's not too bad…Not that we wouldn't let you come over or anything! It almost seems like everyone's getting colds. I imagine it's due to the season, but…"

"I'll be over a little later, Tino."

And then the arrangement was set. I was sitting on a chair close to a desk in Peter's room as Peter himself decided to quickly organize things. I couldn't help but smirk a little at his frustration as I'd heard Tino reprimanding him for not cleaning his room earlier. Colored pencils, markers, childish drawings were all over his desk. I wasn't aware that he liked drawing so much. Most of the drawings weren't of anyone I recognized, but of random faces. The only thing I did recognized, however, was the white fluffball of a dog that belonged to the household.

"There!" He said in a satisfactory tone. "I'm done cleaning my room, Tino!" He had hollered out his doorway. Tino in response yelled up the stairs, "Thank you!" For being a family of only three, their house was quite large. As I thought about my own home, it suddenly felt a lot emptier.

Peter quietly closed his bedroom door and smiled at me when he turned around. He quickly scuttled over to his bed with blue rocket sheets and sat atop it, his eyes still locked on me. I assumed he was going to start talking, but he didn't. So from across the room I started out with, "What are your intentions, Peter?"

I must have sounded a little fed up, as Peter's face looked a little hurt. "Huh…I…"

Still in the middle of deciding to treat him as innocent or on the same level as I would treat everyone else, I scooted the wheely chair only a tad closer to the young boy with bright blond hair. "How much do you like me, Peter?"

Peter tensed up a bit, his cheeks burning ever so slightly. Nevertheless he still looked very happy about it, and brought his knees to his stomach as he played with the toes still inside of white knee socks. "A lot, I think."

"You think…?" I echoed him. With his own uncertainty, mine grew tenfold.

"I've…never been in a relationship before or anything, and…everyone already treats me half my age…I think I can make my own decisions, now!"

"Well," I began, "what is your decision about this?"

We both ended up staring at each other quite blankly for a moment. I could see the resolve in Peter's face as he scrunched up his face and said firmly, "I want to be your boyfriend!"

I nearly fell out of my chair hearing that. Still, it seemed he had things to say. "You're really nice to me and I think we're really similar…Even that kiss last night was nice!"

Oh right, that. Even though I felt some sort of sudden pull in my chest, I asked, "Don't you think I'm a little too old for you, though?"

The boy was 12, after all.

"No," He replied bluntly. "Age gaps happen in real life, you know! And I can't help it if I'm sort of shrimpy. I bet if I looked a few years older you wouldn't be feeling guilty."

"I just don't want to get called a pedophile…" I muttered under my breath and rested a hand to my face.

"You won't!" He replied unyieldingly. "I'll beat anyone up who says that about you." He made a resilient symbolic fist of his promise with a toothy grin to boot. He was cute. Too cute to deny him. As a result, I smiled. "S—so then!" He said in an energetic voice, "I'm your boyfriend now?"

Instead of giving Peter any sort of verbal consent, I just nodded in response. I was now dating a 12-year-old. God, that did not sound good no matter how I phrased it.

"I promise I won't ever ignore you, and I promise to not be too annoying!" He started with another vow. "Just tell me when I'm annoying and I'll back off, alright? And tell me when you feel lonely, 'cause then I can keep you company. Okay?"

"Alright," I said quite softly, feeling a small smile forming on my lips. I could tell he was genuine now and didn't want me to undermine him, regardless of his age and inexperience.

"Now come over and sit with me," He said decisively, pointing to the spot on his bed beside him. Trying to put all other thoughts aside, I focused on being compliant. Already, Peter was taking charge of the relationship. The shrimpy blond boy took my right hand and curled his fingers around it. "I really like holding your hand…even if my hands are still really tiny in comparison."

What he said was true, his hands were quite small. They didn't seem proportionally wrong to the rest of his body, but as it rest in mine it was definitely petite. Still, they were really warm. We both sat on the edge of Peter's bed, holding each other's hands in relative silence. "I don't really have anything else to say, sorry…" He apologized after a bit. "I've kind of said everything I already wanted to."

"No, it's alright," I added. "I like quiet. It feels pretty calm…"

The boy rested his head against my shoulder, squeezing my right hand just a tad tighter as he nestled in closer to me. It felt awkward, though I think it was really only me who thought it. To Peter, I imagined that he felt quite confident with his courage and progress, I suppose. He was a pretty ballsy 12-year-old.

"Do you like me at all?" He asked me in a feeble sounding voice, only looking up just to glance at me and resumed his gaze on the floor.

"P—Peter…give me a day or two to come up with something that sounds nice…If I gave you some sort of answer now, I'm afraid it'd come out sarcastic or mean-sounding."

"W—what'dyou mean!" His grip tightened and panic shot through his voice.

My way with words had done it again. I had been bitter and cynical for too long, I imagine. "I'm…not good with words." I told him. "I can say something, and a lot of the time it sounds harsh. I don't want to be cruel to you, Peter. If something sounds odd, don't look into it too much. If I'm too quiet…it's because I don't know what to say either."

"So _that's_ why you're so quiet!" He smirked and added a little chuckle.

"Well…not always," I answered back, "but close enough."

"Then we don't have to use words." He smiled confidently back at me.

I blinked for a moment, wondering what he was specifically referring to. It didn't take long for me to figure out though as he leaned up to delicately kiss me. In just a night he had made a total transformation from awkward tired face to actually having the nerve to go the full 100% of a kiss. I was merely the receiver. He really wasn't joking, or at least it didn't seem like it.

Keeping them quite mild, I kissed the tip of his nose and his lips. We shared a small sort of whispered laughter as the bridges of our noses rested against each other.

"Oh, Peter! You forgot to take up your clean clothes from laundry this morning. I know I do most, if not all, of the housework, but I think you should help out a litt—"

Tino had casually walked into Peter's room with an armful of clean shirts and pants, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw us. Hands caressing the other's face, noses and foreheads touching. Feeling every muscle in my body simultaneously tense up with enough force it'd feel as though they'd all tear, I quickly force myself to turn around and jump up off of Peter's bed.

"Wha—" Was all Tino could manage as his whole face was entirely agape.

YUPS. Everyone knew I was gunna pull one of these. Okay, for rizzle can I please have some ideas. I totally do not know where I'm going with this and Norway to me sounds completely OOC but I'm stupid so alright. YEAH. Tell me to update more, it's motivating.


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